Against All Odds
by rebbecasOCs
Summary: this is my first attempt at a book. it's about a 1980's shadow society falling to pieces and the man stuck in the middle of it all.
1. Against All Odds: Prequel

Prologue  
"Start at the beginning, and go from there."  
A silky smooth voice shatters the deafening silence of the dimly lit shack. The bass reverberating off the tin scrap walls, mixing with the soft pitter pattering of the rain outside to create a pleasantly dangerous ambiance. The click of a hammer being cocked capitalizing on this, though the other man seems unaffected.  
"And where exactly is the beginning? There have been many beginnings and many endings in my life."  
The second man's voice is even and firm, confident undertones seeping through as he smiles at the other man amusedly.  
"Alright. How about Dubai, January 5th, 1983?"  
The man grins back, though it's strained with barely repressed contempt and anger. The other man looks surprised at this, his mouth hanging slightly agape as he stares at the man.  
"How did you...Ga-?"  
"Start from the morning or I'm going to give you the payment you really deserve."  
The other man swallows, his confidence shaken as his mouth suddenly becomes a desert.  
"Dubai, January 5th 1983. It was just like any other mission really, at least that's what I had been led to believe..."


	2. Chapter 1: Honor Amongst Thieves

Chapter 1: Honor Amongst Thieves  
Dubai, January 5th 1983  
The night sky is dark, the warm wind whipping around the dusty dimly lit streets as the few remaining roamers seek shelter, the crescent moon finally reaching its peak. A lone man stops in front of one of the many hotels littering the outskirts of the city, eventually entering and heading past reception without a glance. Entering the elevator, some inane music he can't understand blaring loudly through the dingy excuse for transportation, he presses the button for the topmost floor and waits silently. Just as they were supposed to close, a hand stops them, startling the previously composed man slightly. The doors open to reveal an older Caucasian looking man, his hair greyed and oily, his teeth crooked as he gives the man a smile.

The man greets him in Arabic, before giving him another smile and entering, asking him something as he points at a button. The man pushes it, hearing it click, before he steps back. The older man shakes his head, his grin strained.  
"You didn't learn Arabic, did you? That prejudice of yours may be the death of you some day, Agent Faux."  
The man's head snaps to look at the older man, studying him closer and noting the slight imperfections and abnormalities of the older man's face.  
"Ga-!"  
The older man slaps a hand across Agent Faux's mouth, silencing him as the elevator doors finally close  
"Fool! Stop acting like a greenhorn and shape up! What is the number one rule that's taught to you in the academy?"  
Agent Faux's brow creases slightly as he recounts the 5 tenets that are drilled into them from day one. The older man finally releases his hold on Agent Faux's mouth when the doors close.

Agent Faux's brow creases slightly as he recounts the 5 tenets that are drilled into them from day one. The older man finally releases his hold on Agent Faux's mouth when the doors close.  
"No names, no witnesses, no trace."  
He sighs after speaking, running a hand through his gelled hair.  
"So you haven't forgotten all of your training then, let's hope that this OP goes smoothly, for yours and my sake."  
The old man grasps at something on his neck, a small bump a shade lighter than the rest of his skin. He pulls at it and it starts to come away, along with more and more skin, until his entire face is peeled off, revealing an infinitely younger man.  
"Nice to finally meet you, Agent Romain."  
Agent Faux bows his head slightly, his face red as he blushes in embarrassment.  
"Wish I could say the same, but it seems my partner is a damned knucklehead. Now what exactly do you know about our objective?"  
Agent Romain runs his hands over his own hair, removing the wig and pocketing it with his mask in his back pocket, careful to make sure none of it peeks out.  
"Exfiltrate the target during the deal, meet up with Avalon, leave the hot zone."  
Agent Faux closes his eyes as he recants his briefing, before snapping them open at the sound of a click, a silenced pistol aimed at the center of his slightly perspired forehead.  
"Thanks Agent Faux, but your services will no longer be needed anymore"  
Agent Romain's sneer with unrestrained contempt and arrogance is the last thing Agent Faux sees before everything goes black.


End file.
